


Happy Just To Dance With you

by SometimesWriting



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Dancing, F/M, Fluff, I'm just struggling with trying to work out how AO3 works, M/M, Molly is bored and sad, Mycroft and Greg are engaged, Mystrade (sort of), Mystrade Engagement Party, One Shot definitely, Sherlock wants to cheer her up, Sherlolly - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-08
Updated: 2015-02-08
Packaged: 2018-03-11 03:20:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3312002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SometimesWriting/pseuds/SometimesWriting
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Greg and Mycroft are celebrating their engagement with a party<br/>and everbody is enjoying themselves except Molly.<br/>Sherlock decides it's his duty to do something about that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy Just To Dance With you

Molly could hardly recall a time when her mood had been as bad as it was now. Currently being the only one not twirling around on the small dance floor in between all the little round tables, she had her chin rested on her palm and rather bored watched the happy guests around her who were busy celebrating the engagement of Mister Mycroft Holmes and Detective Inspector Gregory Lestrade. The happy couple on their part were sharing a private moment, sitting together at their table, inconspicuously holding hands, and clearly amused watched their guests, laughing softly and mumbling something to one another every once in a while. Molly quickly relocated her gaze, absentmindedly staring down into her glass of red wine instead. She was happy for Greg and Mycroft, both of them seemed a lot more cheerful since they’d found each other, and especially after what Greg had gone through with his wife, or now rather ex-wife, they deserved enjoying themselves and their relationship. Still she couldn’t help the waves of sadness and enviousness that overwhelmed her whenever she caught them smiling deeply in love at each other. It wasn’t just seeing Greg and Mycroft or Mary and John, no, any couple she saw these days put a damper on her mood. Of course she knew why. Tom was the reason, or rather their broken engagement. She didn’t regret ending it though she did feel bad for hurting Tom so much, especially as he’d never actually done something wrong. He’d been lovely and caring and gentle, and marrying him would have been the absolutely wrong decision. Because how could she marry Tom and promise him her love when she clearly had not actually moved on, no matter what she’d said to Greg. The petite pathologist huffed softly and took a large sip of her wine. Her gaze wandered once again while she swallowed, and it briefly met the one of a certain slender man with dark curls. Molly hurried to look somewhere else, suddenly finding the little flower pattern of her dress extremely fascinating. A part of her just wanted to leave the small ballroom Mycroft and Greg had booked for this evening but she also didn’t want to be alone at home with just Toby as company. Since Tom had moved out, her tiny apartment seemed too large for her and way too quiet. In fact she had started to leave the television on most of the time she was at home, simply so she felt like she had someone human around.  
Her train of thoughts crashed when suddenly Sherlock took place on the empty chair to her right.  
“Oh… Hello, Sherlock…”  
She glanced up at him for a split second, feigning a rather convincing smile. “Very nice here isn’t it? Greg and Mycroft really did a-“  
“You are feeling alone”, he interrupted her impatiently.  
“What? No, no, I’m fine, honestly. Just a bit tired, don’t worry.”  
She intensified her faked smile a bit and received a roll of eyes in return.  
“Molly Hooper, I told you many times that you’re rubbish at lying, so I’d very much appreciate it if you could save us the time of making you admit you’re feeling lonely and sad.”  
For a moment she was speechless, then she sighed exasperated and ran a hand through her hair that was falling open down to the middle of her back today in soft waves.    
“Fine. Do you care to explain why you’re here then?”  
“It’s my brother’s engagement party and-… Oh you mean here as in at this table. Well obviously because I want to cheer you up.”  
She blinked.  
“You do?”  
“Clearly.”   
“Oh…”  
“Yes.”  
“… Why?”   
“Because we’re friends. Also this is a party and as I helped organising it I want it to be a success. Based on the research I did a party or any other festive event is not considered a success if the guests aren’t happy and contented.”  
“You researched how to throw a party?”  
“Obviously. My knowledge on this topic was rather limited so I considered this the best option.”  
“Ah… well you don’t have to worry about me. Look, everyone’s dancing and clearly happy.”  
“Wrong.”  
“Wrong…?”  
“Yes, not everyone. Admittedly the majority of people in here is apparently enjoying this evening but you aren’t.”  
Now she was slowly getting annoyed. Why couldn’t he just leave her alone?  
“Listen, if it’s so unbearable for you to see me unhappy, I’ll just go home alright?”  
Without waiting for a reply she downed the rest of her wine, got up from her chair and attempted to put on her coat, though she was stopped by pale, long fingers wrapping around her wrist.  
“Sherlock, seriously, I just want to-…”  
“Dance with me.”  
Molly froze. She must have misheard. A light line appeared between her furrowed eyebrows as she looked down at him, sitting on his chair still.  
“What?”  
“I said, dance with me.”  
“Yes, I heard that. But why do you want me to dance with you?”  
“Well first of all because it seems that dancing can cheer people up quite a bit and second-…”, Sherlock lowered his voice slightly, “Don’t tell anyone but I love dancing. I always have but I rarely ever get a chance to so I won’t miss this one.”  
He got up with one swift movement and, ignoring her quiet protests, pulled her with himself to the very center of the dance floor.  
“Sherlock, I really don’t want to dance!”, Molly half squeaked, half hissed, her heart doing something that felt like a backflip in her chest when he placed his large hand on her back, just above her waist, and it felt like the warmth of his palm was burning through the thin fabric of her dress.  
“Why?”, he asked nonchalantly, not making an attempt at letting her go. In fact quite the contrary, he took her petite hand in his and pulled her a bit closer so their feet were almost touching.   
“Because I don’t know _how_ to dance, I’m really awful at it, I’ll only step on your toes!”  
“Don’t worry, just follow my lead, it’s really easy.”  
“But-…”   
“No, no ‘but’.”   
He smirked and before she could protest again, he was already skillfully maneuvering them across the polished pit in a wide circle, managing to never collide with one of the other couples that danced just like them to the classical music the band played.  
Molly felt incredibly uncomfortable, clinging to his shoulder with her hand when he started to twirl them around more quickly. Even though they were dancing a rather fast Viennese waltz, he never took his gaze of her face.  
Sheepishly she stared at his chest, wondering how long exactly the piece the band was playing at the moment could possibly be, but eventually, after about a minute, she started to relax and even enjoy it, smiling subconsciously.  
Of course he recognised and one of those rare honest smiles spread on his lips, showing off how proud he was to have managed to cheer her up.   
“Okay… This is-… admittedly not exactly as bad as I had imagined…”  
“And you’re doing a pretty good job at this. So much about ‘I can’t dance’.”  
“It’s true, I honestly can’t. Guess it’s due to you that we haven’t stumbled yet.”  
Right in that second she accidentally stepped on his foot.  
“Oh god, I’m sorry!” she squeaked and blushed embarrassed, “God, sorry, you okay?”  
Sherlock had only flinched a little, barely recognisably, and now just briefly shook his head.  
“Don’t worry. I’m quite alright.”  
“Sure?”  
“Believe me, Molly, I’ve experienced much worse and more painful things than a light woman stepping onto my toes… Though, I’d be fairly grateful if you’d keep your heels away from my feet, those would most likely hurt a lot more.”  
He winked, a boy-ish grin twitching around the corners of his lips, and she laughed involuntarily, fixing her gaze on his chest again. They danced in silence for about another half a minute, then the music ended and Sherlock brought them to an elegant stop. Immediately Molly took her hand off his shoulder, clearing her throat.  
“Thank you… I’m really feeling better now, that was really nice of you. I’ll-…”  
She tried to pull her right hand out of his gentle hold but he wouldn’t let her.  
“My pleasure, Molly…”  
“Uhm… you can-… let go now if you want…”  
“I’d actually hoped you’d give me the honour of dancing again with me…”, he replied almost shyly.  
“Even though I might step on your toes…?”   
“I’m very willing to take that risk…”, he chuckled, “Please, Molls…”  
She automatically raised her gaze at the unexpected mention of her nickname and her blush intensified when she realized how close they still were, his face mere inches away from hers.  
“I uhm…”, she blinked confused, distracted by the unusually soft expression in his eyes.  
“Please…?”, he asked quietly again, his voice a low soft rumble.  
“O-okay…”, she heard herself say and felt a sudden fluttery sensation in her stomach when a bright happy grin spread on his lips once more, and as soon as the band began to play again, this time a soft and slow piece, he rested his hands at her waist. Molly hesitated nervously before wrapping her arms around his neck. The fact that all the other couples around them were standing in the same position did manage to comfort her a bit but she felt like a teenage girl on her first date nonetheless. God knew, she really hadn’t moved on but then, Sherlock would probably never really leave her cold. Mentioned object of her desire was holding her petite frame close to his own, his hands resting on her back and, she couldn’t quite tell if she was imagining it as he was turning them in slow circles around themselves, but it seemed like he was – barely recognisably– lightly stroking her back.  
“Are you happy for Mycroft and Greg…?”, she interrupted the silence after about a minute. Molly wasn’t sure what was going on tonight but not even Anderson could have missed that there was something very different about Sherlock’s behaviour, and she couldn’t help but wonder if it had something to do with not only his best friend having settled and started a family but also his older brother now.  
Sherlock raised a brow at her question, “Do you think I’m not?”  
“No, no, I’m just-… wondering… I mean, it’s Mycroft… did you ever expect him to get married at all?”  
“In all honesty, no I didn’t. My brother is a very-… special person and due to his intelligence he finds the company of other people very tiring and dull… so I expected he’d get bored of anybody very quickly. But to answer your question, I’m indeed happy for him and Glenn…”  
“Greg…”  
“Right…”  
“Sherlock, he’ll be your brother-in-law, you should really stop deleting his first name…”  
The detective snorted softly and it looked like he tried to repress a smile, “Perhaps I should, yes… Or I could get him a name tag…”  
“Doubt he’d be willing to wear that…”, she giggled, glancing at the newly engaged couple who’d by now joined the majority of their guests on the dance floor, chatting quietly while they swayed a little in the rhythm of the music.  
“No, probably not…”  
“I should probably feel honoured that you never deleted _my_ name so far.”  
“I never deleted any information I gained about you”, Sherlock stated surprised.  
Molly was pretty taken aback by this confession.   
“… you haven’t?”  
“No… why would I?”  
“Why not? I thought you only keep relevant data in your mind palace.”  
“Exactly… Any data about you is relevant to me.”  
Sherlock’s voice had once more lowered but this time he looked pretty nervous himself.  
Speechlessly she stared up at him, her wrists still crossed behind his neck, while he was looking at some spot just above her head.  
“Molly-…”, he began, then interrupted himself and sighed frustrated, clearing his throat afterwards, “I told you you’re the one who matters the most… wasn’t it obvious what I meant?”  
This couldn’t be happening. He couldn’t be implying what she thought, what she hoped he was.  
“But-… you never tried to-…”  
“Of course I didn’t. You had Tom. You seemed happy, you said you were well. You told me about-… the intimacy you and him shared-… I thought I’d missed my chance…”  
“Sherlock, where is this coming from so suddenly…? Since when-…?”   
“I’m not sure… I’m not-… familiar with these emotions and feelings, Molly… But I described them to John and he-… well let’s say he could make a diagnose…”  
“Which feelings do you mean…?”  
Sherlock’s gaze met hers for a split second and he took his time to answer.  
“The ones I have when I look at you… feeling all-… warm… and-… and protective about you… I didn’t like seeing you with Tom… Seeing you kiss him at John’s wedding… or hold his hand… dance with him… I felt bad and guilty for disappointing you when I got high because of the Magnussen case… And for saying those horrible, horrible things to you at the Christmas party at Baker Street-… My sincerest apologies again for that… I was utterly rude and obnoxious and-“  
“It’s okay, Sherlock…”  
She raised her hand from his neck to hesitantly run her fingers through his curls, making him shiver slightly.  
“No it’s not… You-… you always did so much for me and I exploited your weak spot for me for my own purposes-”  
She couldn’t hear it anymore but he wouldn’t shush even if she told him to, so she simply pulled him down to herself and firmly pressed her lips on his.  
The detective stiffened and stared at her with widened eyes, whereas hers were closed, but after a couple of seconds he began to relax, his arms wrapping around her waist and pressing her closer to his tall frame while his eyelids fell shut as well.  
It wasn’t a passionate kiss, not one of desire, but one full of hesitation, tenderness and gentleness, and when they broke apart after a couple of seconds, he rested his forehead lightly against hers, both of them breathing surprisingly heavily.   
“We-… we should… maybe get off the dance floor…”, Molly suggested quietly after a few seconds.  
“Yes… yes, you’re right…”, came his almost shaky reply and he straightened up slowly, leading her off the dance floor and but keeping one of his arms wrapped protectively around her small waist.  
Greg, still dancing slowly with Mycroft, grinned smugly at his fiancé.  
“ ‘bout time, wasn’t it?”  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Soooo first of all, I'm not a native English speaker, so please forgive me for my ton of comma mistakes. So far I only published fanfiction in my native language and on other websites, this is my first publication on AO3.  
> I hope you liked it though!


End file.
